I decided to take it down because people may not understand this… but I know you do.

Black, the absence of light.

The dog remains, thank God they didn't take my dog.

I've been feeling better in general, it does get easier but

To the granddaughter's who cannot see me:

I miss you

I love you

I'm proud of you

It's not your fault

I ask my Higher Power to take the knife from my back.

Let light back into my life.

Let me SEE 👀

The light ✨️

In my dog

And the people who choose to be around me.

It took a while to get over some of the humps while talking to Tara Brach’s new AI that’s in development.

I don’t feel responsible for the choices of my loved ones, but I do feel responsible for my granddaughter feeling that I abandoned her and she was told I didn’t want her.

Here are a few nuggets from my AI exchange:

Self repair (after estrangement) is the foundation that keeps you from harming others. Repair is possible when you don’t need them to love you. Unanswerable questions (why is this happening?) keep the wound open. It keeps you circling back to blame and grief. This is the trappings of the mind.

Integrity is loving the people who are around you and holding the grief you feel at the same time. Presence doesn’t mean that hurt goes away. Helplessness is the actual teacher here. We are capable and helpless, the squeeze comes between the two contrasting realities we live in. This helplessness is more like surrender. The judgement (“This shouldn’t be happening. I don’t deserve this. This isn’t fair.”) of the reality is the cause of the pain. Accepting the reality, this isn’t fair and it is the way things are right now, is a way forward to living along side the pain without allowing it to take over or needing to numb it out.

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I got it on Thriftbooks - why?

Because of a song.

Uninvited by Alanis Morissette.

I have been asking spirit to send me messages by song and this one was playing over and over in my head.

When I looked up the song, this book appeared in my Google search.

I opened it up and felt a wow, how perfect 👌

It is filled with scripture but not in a preachy maybe doesn't apply to real life. Instead it was real life examples.

Chapter 3, the woman at my gym hates me, she shows how our story telling brain creates pain and suffering.

One look and she decided the woman hated her!

Ran with this assumption.

Then one smile forced a question, the author questions herself, could she infact be completely wrong?

Yes.

Yes, you can't know what is in the mind and hearts of other people.

In estrangement, this is important to remember.

You have been uninvited to a family made by a person you chose to have.

This doesn't mean they don't love you.

They have a story.

Who you were as a mother, how you failed them, how they feel unheard or judged or like a disappointment.

It's not your story.

The sleepless nights, the joyful pride at the school concert, the bright lights of the holidays reflected in your eyes and countless other moments your grown child literally can't see or acknowledge.

It doesn't mean it didn't matter.

It means they literally know not what they do.

I am walking in a mall. I see my adult child. They are acting “like old times”. I keep walking. They follow me and put their face on my right side shoulder. Like when they were a child. Smiling at me, I can’t look away, this is the child nobody could ever stay mad at. They want to talk.

I can’t do the small talk. I show them what’s been done. They admit to knowing but didn’t know what to do. The face falls when I speak of the devastation of losing my child. I tell them, come find me when you’re ready. My Dad is still alive in this dream and we are in our home of 10 years ago.

The next time I am in the mall again. My loved one is sitting on a bench in a blue sweater (because the sweater reminded them of me) with glitter stripes. They sign ALS for glitter because I like that sign. I sit beside them. They say, that they’ve been thinking about it and wants to confront the spouse on everything but needs to know, can they come home? They turn to grandpa, my Dad, do you have more money? He says, not much and he will need it but you can come home if you need to.

Then we are at the house and my adult child does come home. They say, they need to work the next day and forgot the glasses when they left their spouse. We are upstairs in the master bedroom. Planning for what to do, how to get the glasses, where they can sleep, when the door bell rings.

It is the spouse and they have my granddaughter.

I open the door and say, “Oh, now I get to see the baby”. This baby immediately smiles at me. Her parent hands me the baby. They go to run up the stairs. I put the baby down. I grab the spouse by a leg and don’t let them upstairs. I kick them out. The men are all shocked upstairs and witnessing this.

They get into the car. We are trying to figure out what to do now. Staying calm for baby. I walk onto the stoop to see if they are gone. Parked in the middle of the road, she gets out and shoots me. The bullet hits me in the left hand but the bullet is weak and falls to the ground. Now I want to call the police. My hand will be fine but this line that is crossed now, was a line that had been blurred. My adult child sees it clearly now. The game is over.

I wake with the thought, this drama, the story they are playing out, is just to distract you from what’s really going on.

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It is possible to be an abusive mother but somehow also a wonderful grandmother.

Photo above is of oldest grandchild I haven’t seen in more than 2 years. It came up in my memories today on FB and this is the only place that I can share about my heartache without embarrassing my adult child OR taking verbal abuse from strangers. As many of us estranged parents have found, the online cancel culture of shame, blame and block is damaging for us but I need to share about this, so here goes.

My mom had a terrible relationship with her mother. She had been adopted and my grandmother’s sister told me many years after her death that everyone in the family was surprised that she had been allowed to adopt; she was mentally ill. Her sister told me the only reason they adopted my Mom was because they had money during the 30’s when nobody else did.

From my perspective, as the youngest child, I was often favored because I was little but that’s not really the whole story.

I was able to sit still for long periods of time. I did as I was told. I liked my room to be in a orderly fashion. I didn’t take up a lot of space. I sang and danced on command. I hardly ever had a temper tantrum.

My grandmother picked me as a golden child. I was used as a weapon. Against my willful older siblings and against our Mom.

I saw what they were doing, this is the part people forget in estrangement and alienation. Yes, your child will agree with you because they are trying to survive but they also know, grandma was a safe place for them. So what parents are creating is dissonance for their child. They agree because they have to. Part of them though, they know the truth and they miss their grandmother.

One memory that outlines this dynamic perfectly is my parents talking in the hall, outside my grandmothers suite. I run after to listen to them. My mother, she is upset, she is being openly criticized at the table. We are too skinny, her children don’t eat enough and it is mother’s fault.

My Dad, ever the stoic philosopher is holding down the fort, energetically he is calming her nervous system, listening, agreeing and coaxing her back - this is her mother.

She wants to take me from my grandmother.

She hates how well I am treated while she is being treated poorly.

I am not justifying my grandmother’s behavior, I am just showing -

Two things can be true at the same time!

I have so many fond memories of my granny. Walks to the store together. Making pies. Pulling weeds. Eating soup. Making pictures for her wall. These moments of connection are priceless and I’m forever grateful that my Mom gave them to me.

Should she have been kind to her daughter? Yes! Absolutely and I even told her so more than once.

Was she ever going to change? No! Well, yes, but only when she was ready.

Eventually granny quit drinking. We went over to her place for dinner and watch figure skating. Mom and granny watching, they knew all the moves, they cheered and agreed and worked together, maybe for the first time.

When we left she said, my Mom is a different person without the alcohol.

I ran to granny, if I was scared, or bored or lonely for attention. My alcoholic Mom was often preoccupied and my Dad was around but always working. Granny would say, oh there you are again, why don’t you help me - pick flowers, watch a show with musicians in it, clean up the kitchen. I climbed into her bed at night when I had a bad dream, she would say, don’t wake granny honey, just climb in and I did.

It drove my mom a special kind of nuts, watching her critical and frankly mean mother give me extra dessert, or hang another (what I thought were honestly not very good pictures) one of my “pieces of art” onto the wall.

What would have happened for me, if mom had modern technology, I have no doubt, I wouldn’t have memories of granny at all. We would have been gone. Instead, when granny sobered up, they got to work together for once. If we had been gone, that wouldn’t have happened. She wouldn’t have seen, who is her mom without the drinking but a different person. Perhaps the mother she thought she had wasn’t that at all! The judgment was dropped by both of them before granny died.

I’m not suggesting that mom should have sat down at the table with no objections or expectations of how she wanted to be treated. I am simply stating, the mother that is cut off because of mistakes, miscommunication and what I’m hearing lately, simple conflict, could be your child’s safe space. Granny was that for me. Granny’s love gave me a foundation that my own mother couldn’t provide.

For my oldest granddaughter, taken from me just before she turned 8, I am sure she is confused - likely she is in agreement that her grandmother was somehow unsafe for her Mom but what does she do with our memories? Bury them? Block them out? Re-write 2 years of weekly sleep overs as “causing harm”? Children who grow up with this kind of dissonance have a deep seated self hatred - the stats on alienated children are not pretty. This is also something the parents have put into play for their child - without even considering there could be unexpected and life changing repercussions.

The middle child, taken away before her 5th birthday, she doesn’t remember. We had a family friend over with her 5 year old last night and she wondered where we could have a fire. She didn’t remember the fire we had outside last year. That experience is gone from her consciousness. So the middle child only has one grandmother, that’s all she will remember.

The youngest is 2, I’ve only seen them twice and for a while I could see photos the parent shared on IG but they cut me off again and blocked me when I sent a very nice message letting her know I could see the photos there. My apology accepted and then my profile blocked. This two year old, if she does hear anything about me, it will be negative, from the perspective of the grandparents that are deeply ashamed I have been removed but probably enjoy that it makes it easier for them to monopolize every holiday; no need to compromise when the other side of the family has been psychologically murdered.

One interesting thing that came after the estrangement was a dream visit from my granny. I was able to tell her I didn’t get to say goodbye before she died but that I loved her and missed her dearly. I had her for 8 years. Just like my granddaughter had me. Only I got to know granny was in heaven and my granddaughter is likely shamed so that she stops asking about me. The children who come to play at my house now, although they are not mine, they get the benefit of being in my space, with two grown people who are calm and I shower them with the love I would give to my biological grandchildren. I hope on some level, that they can feel it and I keep asking the Universe, please bring my grandchildren to visit.

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Her parents know what they are doing is wrong.

Just like my grandmother knew it was wrong to drink everyday and been openly cruel to her daughter.

They will stop only if and when they are ready.

Until then, I will be making fires, singing songs, playing barbies, walking the dog, and having snacks with other people’s granddaughter's.

If my granddaughter’s come to find me later, the dissonance will be very loud because I am blunt and unfiltered but I am never cruel.

Conflict is not the same as abuse.

What this book does is help us to understand that love never dies.

I lost my Dad in 2024 and kept trying to connect.

This book opened my eyes to what connection is with our loved ones.

I feel now, this estrangement is a living persons problem and not a spirit problem.

It hurts because it's supposed to hurt.

We are here, all learning lessons and how to live; even when we have been discarded. When having us in their lives was too expensive. Having us cost them time, energy, and created a mental load. It's all real BUT

It doesn't mean you aren't loved!

Or that this current situation is permanent - we know better - those of us who are alive in our 50's and beyond are counting on two hands the friends and family we've had that have passed away.

If you want to feel a connection which never dies, something each parent has with their child, you might love these stories of undying love and creating a language in signs.

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Here is the dance: Mom puts daughter (who is crying) into van and mother gets in, turns on van and daughter gets out - continuing to cry. The daughter is very clearly stating, “I need to go inside and get my squishy pillow. I haven’t been able to take it to school and I want to take it with me.” The mother is also very clear, it is time to go to school now, get into the van.

My animals hear the little girl crying and want to go over to distract her with pets so maybe she will be a happy go lucky kid once more.

I watch as the scene plays out again and again.

I bet you anything today is the last day of school and the rules are being lowered today; it is her only chance to bring her squishy to show her school friends.

I would also bet you that her Mom doesn’t know this is the case and isn’t hearing the daughter’s concern because they are already running late.

Again and again, child in van, Mom starts van, child gets out, repeat.

Then I have this thought, as this Mom is clearly unable to create the safe space that is provided by decisive authority “Mom says no, so it is no and it is time to go, end of discussion” - does this frustration and powerlessness play itself out with her own mother? Is this part of what is contributing to the cut off culture of blame and get rid of Mom?

Why is this beautiful woman being tortured by her young child instead of setting a clear boundary of some kind? Or if she doesn’t want to do this, why isn’t she sitting down on the grass beside her child and really listening to the complaint and coming up with a compromise - such as, bring the squishy pillow into the van for the ride and we will ask the teacher when we get to school if the pillow can spend the day with you? Or any other compromise that a young child might agree to, there are several I could think of.

Is it the demands of the loud child turning the mother upon herself so hard with her own judgment that she is completely unable to respond in an appropriate way?

So later, she will blame her mother for being too lenient or too invested, or too angry, or too neglectful in her own childhood, so that if she does call her mom to talk later before the conversation starts she is in such deep judgement that nothing her mom says will be reassuring?

Is this gentle parenting in action? Spare the child from any consequences of their behavior because the parent already feels inadequate?

I kept walking but I thought about this a lot yesterday.

Will that child grow up and say, you didn’t teach me discipline or make me follow through, so now I can’t finish what I started because you didn’t meet my needs?

When nobody asked to be born, who has authority? Nobody?

And is that why I am hated as a grandmother because I would have the time and experience to sit in the backseat with the child, hear her concerns, let her cry it out, and probably go get the squishy for her because driving is her Mom’s job?

I am more emotionally available because as a grandmother, even watching you cry is joyful. Although my family has rejected me, what I have to offer is still a beautiful thing. Perhaps next time, I will take my pets over and offer to help the mother in distress.

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Update from the land of estrangement -

Writing the amends letter and paying my family who isn’t speaking to me

A few months ago, I was gifted information by the head man in the family I have been removed from. He said to do 3 things. Apologize and mean it (I thought I had but ok they didn’t believe me) Pay them money (no expectation of ever being paid back in any way, give them a gift of easy money) and make yourself available for whenever your loved one wants to talk (this gives me information, they are still angry at me for working instead of being available to mother 24/7).

I asked for opinions, on here and from people I know. People who are good Christians. Is this a Christian philosophy? No. Other than apologizing and giving away your money is a good Christian thing to do.

Everyone said no. I mean, everybody! My partner, my friends, my professional counselor, my body talk practitioner, all said, no, you don’t pay people who aren’t speaking to you and are actively hurting you by taking away your grandchildren.

The thing is though, in Anthropology (I have a minor in Anthropology) I learned, to infiltrate a society, you befriend the Big Man and if he says, drink goats blood, stay up all night, go on a vision quest, a vow of silence, confess to a Nun of Priest - whatever it is, you do it.

This information is your key.

So I thought about it long and hard. I wrote an amends letters (6 pages I burned - then 3 pages I re-wrote) and I wasn’t happy with any of them.

I looked for a 3rd option and was given one.

I prayed to be ready everyday for a month to write a sincere amends letter that my loved ones could understand.

I started asking people who have estranged children, what (if anything) did you need to hear from your own parents? I have a feeling this is generational trauma being acted out.

Some people didn’t get what I was saying but many people gave me tid bits.

I strung them into a page of affirmations we probably all need to hear.

Then this last week, I felt ready. I put together a very short amends letter and I e-transferred them almost $6,000.

Then I waited.

There was no response.

Luckily, I was expecting this. My loved one will be scratching their head wondering why on earth their very cheap (I am not cheap but I was always poor) Mum is suddenly sending them funds. They will need time to think about this. The amends letter was rejected by their spouse, probably blocked my email but I printed it off and sent it in the mail.

Here is the miracle though - this request was huge, it was sitting like an anvil on my chest. Send them money, or don’t? Apologize again but for what? Making myself available means losing income as I will have to cancel work (I’m a contractor) but okay, if that’s what needs to happen.

Now, this whole thing, it’s off my desk!

I woke up the other day and my first thought was “I’m here for the passion.”

The grief will probably always be there, in my heart, losing my loved ones and especially those grandbabies - but I have committed to not staying in grief any longer.

I’m not going to bi-pass with a ton of Ohm’s but I am going to go inside and say yes, I see you, this is hurting, you miss those people, we send them love and hope for better times.

The veil of sadness is lifting!

When it comes, I go there, into the grief and loss but then I go on. On with my day, on with my life, on with discovering my own choices, dreams, and desires.

Now, I’m not saying, if you have money to give, send it to your children with a simple short letter and you will feel better.

I am saying, if there is something, a thing that you meant to do, something that you genuinely regret, something you wish were different, find something that you could do.

I did have some money. I split it 3 ways, between me and my two grown children. That feels fair.

Today, in meditation, I have been working with Tara Brach’s RAIN practice and what I was working with was feeling happy and relaxed. What?! I haven’t been at happy and relaxed really for 3 years (my Mother in law died 3 years ago, then my Dad, then the estrangement).

So, find your practice, don’t be afraid if nobody understands, pray if you aren’t ready and ask for guidance. Listen to your own inner wisdom and take action to care for yourself the way that you would care for your child if they would only let you <3

The dove is the bird of peace, taking me to those places of being happy and the frog is the grounding and singing factor, keeping me relaxed. Happy and relaxed in estrangement. I wouldn’t have believed this was possible 2 years ago when it started!

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Most of my readers are parents of adult children who have estranged but recently I asked this question in social media groups - What if anything did you long to hear from your own parents which you didn’t get?

I got so many answers, lots of judgment (generational trauma real or not real debates and reiterations that parents are the guilty party in the equation of you wronged me = estrangement) but a few people opened up about what they didn’t get.

Hearing those 3 words was up top as number one answer: I love you.

One thing my husband and I have been playing with in our very long marriage is “what is it that you need” and for both of us it’s “what do you need to hear” as most important.

What we discovered is it doesn’t matter that he wanted this from his mom and dad and I wanted this from my Mum. We can meet those needs now, together and separately as well; for ourselves.

It actually doesn’t matter who says “I’m sorry I didn’t show you how much I love you”. It matters that you hear it!

Say it to yourself. Ask your friends to say it, or your siblings if they talk to you, or your spouse if they are open and willing.

Read these below, tell me how that feels and please add anything that you feel might be missing.

There’s nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you.

Your feelings are important to me and you matter.

I’m sorry I was so focused on my own experiences that I wasn’t thinking about you.

I wish I had been more kind to you.

I’m sorry my actions or inactions felt I was punishing you.

My life is better with you in it.

I’m sorry for the times I wasn’t there for you and you felt abandoned.

I’m proud of how smart and resourceful you are.

Looking at your beautiful face gives me great joy.

Now where on earth does this come from?

On Star Trek, captain Kirk says, “give me that 3rd option!” and I turned to my husband and say that’s it! I need a 3rd option.

Then in meditation I saw the earth frog beside me but the bird of peace was no where to be seen. I need a creative solution.

I’m writing an amends letter, or rather I have written and re-written and burned and shared and given up writing an amends letter.

This digging is me looking for a third option.

Perhaps our amends letters fail because they are, this happened, you this, I that and now this is happening to you/me/us and it’s your fault.

Maybe what everybody needs to hear is the feelings that we all have. The feelings that we have don’t need to be true or justified or right, feelings just are and when we feel them we can let them go.

Maybe the amends letter doesn’t even need to go into the story of “this is what happened” but needs to address those feelings.

One person said, “I wish I had been important enough for my parents to care to meet my needs”.

Look at the dysfunction here: The assumption that their needs weren’t important to their parents, that the parents didn’t care, and there’s no way to know this was true! It’s entirely likely that parent didn’t know. Or had different needs (an untrained dog nipping at their leg while you a crying, a sibling puking, or an addiction issue) at that time and didn’t notice your suffering.

So that’s analysis at it’s finest.

It doesn’t address any of the feelings.

Yet saying something like, I’m sorry that I missed the signs of your pain and didn’t see how much you needed me to show you that I care deeply for you. Your feelings matter to me!

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Dear Mother Mary and her son Jesus,

Please help me release the resistance that I feel as pain in my lower back.

Help that part of me which needs to die be complete, so that I may be reborn into the new life that I find myself in.

Help me to be ready to write an amends letter, spontaneously filled with the words and phrases my son and daughter in law need to hear.

Tell my mother that I love her and I thank her for my life as well as all the lessons she taught me.

Help me to let that injured child out of the crate of resistance so she can sit at the peace table and play with the others.

Let all of the pieces of me, my past, my experiences and my hope blend into the wisdom that I long to carry out into the world.

Let me see how apologizing for the injuries to my son and daughter in law does not mean I shall be punished and carry guilt for all my days to come.

Help me to become that instrument of peace that I have wanted to be in the world. Let me do this in my own family.

Bring my grandchildren back, so they may know who they are, where they got their grit and determination from and for the littlest one, her blue eyes.

Yes, make me an instrument of peace, for my child who is isolated, for his wife who feels judged, give me the words they need to hear and that I need to say. Let the grace of God flow through me so that my child will want to come home.

Amen.

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Today is another holiday in Canada. Victoria day.

No calls or texts expected.

I wake and sit at the kitchen table, I have placed this book that was from my Mom (1990) there and read the entry for today.

The external solution we want of course, is that our loved ones come back to us.

In the meantime, are we living our own lives?

We may put our life on hold… but the kids, they are living. Laughing, crying, cleaning up, making mistakes, and finding their own way.

Perhaps since we find ourselves in this climate, we can adjust, and ask, what do I want today?

Strong coffee. A meditation date to practice RAIN for Tara Brach's class and I would like to drive out to the cemetery to see my parents names on the plaque we got for them. Maybe later a nap and some music practice.

While we are alive, let us live well! Eat the food, drink the drink, laugh out loud and maybe even a walk down by the river tonight.

• Flowers for Mother’s Day -

This year I did something different.

I thought about all the loving Mom’s I know. My clients, many who were the Mom of the music student but then became my friend. I gave two clients a little flowering plant and a card. One going through separation and one through losing her Mom; another form of separation.

I gave one to a friend who had her birthday land on Mother’s Day this year. I gave one to a friend who was very grateful. I surprised another with a drop off of flowers, a card and her bowls from our last celebration.

I told each mother, you have been a blessing in my life. Thank you for caring for me. Reminding me to see the doctor and to have a break when I need one. Thank you for being a great Mom!

I said everything that I wanted to hear, to women who probably needed to hear it and I spread good will to everyone I met today.

I danced in the living room, sang along to music in the car, talked to my friend from elementary school and enjoyed having my dog so much.

Every thought of shame, fear, doubt or blame, I had back to them to carry - I am here and I am open. I am as loving and kind as can be.

Maybe you really haven’t met a good person before.

Or assuming the best of people seems a stretch…

I release them all as much as I can each moment to loving kindness.

Here is a photo of the Flowers my husband got for me this morning.

Happy Mother’s Day to ALL the Mother’s. Now, everyone who sees this gets to look at pretty flowers and know, you are appreciated Mom!

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Lately, I have turned a corner. What happened - you ask... well I think I saw how much JOY estrangement has stolen from me and as much as I miss my loved ones, I cannot dwell in the dark energy of another person and their choices.

I choose connection.

My ancestors gave me a message as a gift, I have this life TODAY and I have grief but I also want to laugh and live my life to the fullest regardless of the choices of other people.

And so it is.

Step 1: Do stuff for yourself! Anything you loved to do when you were 12 is a good place to start. I like pets, plants and writing.

I wrote a goodbye poem, I buried my loved ones in this poem last year and it was the beginning of the turning point that brewed all winter. I acknowledge that the grandchildren are collateral damage in a war they didn’t start and that we don’t understand. I sent each one of them love and I began sharing my writing.

Step 2: I found loads of people to talk about this with. I told everyone. I contacted old friends, I made new ones online, I joined private paid communities to avoid the verbal abuse online and I spoke and spent time with people who have estranged themselves from their loved ones. I read books, I wrote a lot, I published a book of poetry and lyrics that was written before this estranged adult child was even born. I joined two online meditation courses, a MSBR and Tara Brach’s private year long group study. I did therapy. I am doing Reiki sessions, massage, talk therapy and body talk.

Step 3: I picked rituals that meant something to me. I like to burn stuff. I wrote a new amends letter recently, one that is everything I wanted to say but didn’t get to say. Then I let it sit a few weeks and I re-wrote it on the weekend. Then I burned the amends letter where I said too much, justified my actions with excuses and otherwise had more than apology included.

I took the ashes from the burned letter and put them into the pot for nourishing a new plant that was given to me recently.

The ash will serve as a solid base of nutrients for this new plant to grow.

Energy cannot be created or destroyed; just like our love!

This plant will grow and as it does, remind me of everything I have had to let go of to have my own sense of inner peace.

It has so much significance.

It is in a pot that was my mother in laws, a woman who never accepted me and didn’t understand that I actually was a good person until right up to the end of her life. Inheriting her belongings has been her only living amend to me (other than the occasional gift that was extremely considerate, so many she did like me in some way) we will never know what she was thinking now that she is gone but I intend to use what she left me for good.

The person who gave us this plant is also suffering with estrangement, their adult child will not speak to her partner, and I can’t imagine how they handle this with grace and kindness but here they are thinking about me in their time of needs and brining me something they know I will love and nurture. We are literally in this together with this plant.

Step 4: I kept everything. The toy box is away downstairs but when friends bring their little’s over, the kids always ask for the toy box! I kept the pictures out! I did that, this is MY child, I raised them, I get the credit and I am using a desensitization technique. Looking at their photos daily means I have to deal and I have to feel and I get to say, this is for now and not for forever! I even put their wedding photo into a frame and put it onto a little table with my wedding photo, my parents wedding photo and my grandparents wedding photo. Reject me all you want kiddo, you are part of MY legacy and I am in your bones. It helped me to be less sad over time because raising them was a joy and that’s MY joy - I get to keep it.

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Step 5: Forgiveness - not for them but for you!

For the daughter in law who started all of this, have I turned into grateful for this yet? No. Do I know it might have been needed? Yes. If not by me than by her and possibly by all the adults involved. Forgiving is hard when I feel the children are being hurt and I miss them so badly, but I am working on it. Editing what I tell myself about her helps. She is troubled, she is unhappy, she is blaming someone because it’s easy. I don’t envy her when she see’s the truth and has to do her own inventory.

Is it fair or right or just in anyway? No. Are they still standing on your neck? Maybe. I feel with forgiving energy I have been able to get out from under their thumb. I have removed myself energetically. I also realized, I hadn’t forgiven this adult child’s father. So I’m working on that. Forgiving him instead of thinking what an @sshole. Now when he comes to mind, I try to think, he was lost, he is confused, he doesn’t know any better, I can let him off with love. I don’t have to believe everything I think either. I take the chance to monitor my thoughts (thanks mindfulness meditation training!) and then change them into something more loving. <3

Those who have read my pieces may remember that for many years I have done a practice called Dream Yoga. Basically writing down the dreams I remember after I wake and then looking at the story behind the dream. Is there a lesson? A symbol? Something I should know or learn from this?

My favorite example was waking up to the phrase “Increase your following distance” so I did and I avoided a collision that day!

I had a dream last night and I think it reflects a thawing that may be occurring in my subconscious (and possibly on the other parties mind and heart but I can’t know that for sure) about the estrangement I am living through at this time.

I am at some kind of a show, maybe mine, I will be singing or reading poetry or something but I am a performer and coordinating this event (something I’ve done hundreds of times in my life). I suddenly see my daughter in law and I’m shocked. We are in a kitchen, a backstage greenroom type area, and seeing her is completely unexpected.

She sits down on the kitchen counter.

Then one of my granddaughter’s comes to me, I think it is my oldest but she is too small, so maybe it is one of the other children but I immediately sit on the floor and hold her in my lap. The oldest is 10 now. I have missed two of her birthday’s so I’m not sure how tall she is. This person is little, maybe about 6 - 8 years old. I am holding her close, not tightly but warmly and feeling completely numb.

I don’t remember if I asked what happened but the granddaughter said “We were talking about how we never give up on each other because we are a family and I asked why we had given up on you then.”

My adult child sat down on the floor as well. Under a table, kind of like when they were a child and would hide so they could jump out and surprise me or because they were feeling scared. Almost like a little tent. So, still hiding a bit. Their spouse on the counter was up high and really detached, although they both seemed friendly enough in attitude.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” my adult child asked.

I just sat there. With my granddaughter comfortably in my arms, numb and mute.

Then I woke up.

There’s a few nuggets here for me. We were in the kitchen. The kitchen is where I did most of my parenting and working. The kitchen table was our work station for homework after dinner. I eventually had my desk in the kitchen for a long time. It is the heart of the home. The place of nourishment, sustenance, and often connection. Most of us have been to a party where everyone ended up in the kitchen. It is where we feel most at home.

They crashed a professional engagement for me, and this shows a real and complete lack of respect for me as an individual, an artist, someone who does way more things in life than being somebody’s mom. I often joke, the more important an event, the more likely someone will insult me, criticize me, break up with me, or something to throw me off my game, usually just before “show time” and then someone else just after it’s done. I’m used to it now. It’s almost like the Universe saying, do you want this, for real, no matter what because here’s an obstacle. It makes sense they would show up to a public event and play out that dance again.

The daughter in law on the counter, she is above all of us, and detached from how we are together. My granddaughter and I being on the floor, this is a natural place for children and how I spent most of my 20’s - playing with children in their habitat, close to the ground and accessible to all. She has come to this gathering, something they planned but that I did not consent to and stays up high which shows she thinks she is better than us floor junkies.

My child sitting on the floor with us, but away from us, in a comfortable spot, almost playful, showing the lack of maturity, hiding, they are still a child in my presence or maybe in the world too. It shows a willingness on their part to come down to my level though. To stay removed and protected but to be easier to connect with. I could have reached out to touch their arm but I didn’t.

The wisdom, what’s that saying “out of the mouths of babes”?

Is this really the only thing that will bring them back to me? Knowing they are treating me like an outcast in a family that wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t gotten pregnant? I carried that child, birthed them, nursed them, taught them how to walk, talk, read, write, drive and then let them go when they wanted to leave at 17 - even when I could see they were not ready to be out in the world yet?

They don’t like the lesson they are teaching their children. They don’t like their child seeing that certain people in the family are important to them and other people are not.

Maybe as time has gone by they also don’t like how they feel about themselves.

How they are seen as the type of person who would give up on important relationships because it didn’t suit their purposes at that time.

How hearing their child say this may have sparked fear in themselves that they have shown this wise daughter that parents are a problem to be ignored and shunned.

Maybe because I dropped my end of the rope, because I don’t pull or push on the energy blocks any longer, maybe they are sitting in a discomfort that they created and it isn’t fun anymore.

A fight is only fun when the other person is fighting back but because I have surrendered, there will be no winning. They have already won but it is a forfeited game as their opponent did not show up ready to fight.

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Consent.

I recently read a book on Consent (https://www.thriftbooks.com/w/le-consentement_vanessa-springora/26583389/#isbn=0063047888) this really got me thinking again about what consent actually is.

When a person has done their inventory, followed the next steps and is ready to make amends, the next part is gaining consent. If the person isn’t ready or isn’t interested in hearing your amends efforts, then you can do a living amends.

Examples of a living amends would be giving money back to a store you stole from or making an effort to help someone in need who is in a similar position to the person that you had harmed.

I recently re-read another book about Emotional Abuse (https://www.thriftbooks.com/w/the-emotionally-abused-woman--overcoming-destructive-patterns-and-reclaiming-yourself_beverly-engel/246586/#isbn=0449906442) and apologizing for things just to try and end conflict is a reaction to abuse.

So, as I sit here, looking at an amends letter that is too long and has too much detail in it (reasons and excuses) I am stuck in the question - I cannot gain consent to send this, I have been told they don’t want to work on repair at this time and since I am being shunned and definitely feel abused, should I send this letter to them?

Did I do things that I regret? Yes. Okay so that needs to go in the letter. Apologizing doesn’t include the why of things. My reasons are an important part of my story but they aren’t important to the person who has felt harmed by my actions or inactions.

I find it so interesting that the alienation of a child from a formerly loving and still available grandparent is seen as abuse but shunning your own parent - which often results in losing the relationship with the grandchildren - is somehow seen as a badge of honor, an act of personal strength and is not recognized as abuse.

As in the book about consent, she was 14 when she entered a sexual relationship with a middle aged author and at the time felt she was consenting. Now, as an adult she realizes that she was unable to process the relationship she found herself in.

The children who have lost a relationship with their grandchildren are unable to consent to estrangement. Even if they seem to agree and even say they hate grandmother, they are surviving and siding with a parent they are dependent on. The children are literally trapped in a relationship with a tyrant who is keeping them away from a (grand)parent who loves them and that they love. Love knows no bounds and can never die. The grandchildren are held hostage.

Am I saying that I won’t send the letter once I take out all justifications for my actions or inactions? No, that’s not what I mean but there is a big question mark left here, should I apologize for someone getting upset at me and kicking me out of the family that wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t cared for their spouse for almost two decades? No, I don’t think so but since I’ve had so much time to think, I have realized many things that I know I fell short on. It doesn’t matter if the cupboard was high, the goal was unreachable, I was ill prepared, inexperienced, not well funded and traumatized by my own upbringing. How my adult child feels about their childhood does matter to me and I’m willing to take responsibility for all the things I did - the right and the wrong.

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My son is married to the daughter of a minister. He can’t ignore me because I am a part of his flock whether he likes me or not. So I sent him a message and asked him to do whatever he could because this isn’t good for his grandchildren. He replied and told me that he had spoken to the kids and this is what he would do in my shoes:

apologize and mean it (so judgey, I did apologize and I did mean it so that’s for discounting my efforts)

give them money (no idea of how much he meant, but with no expectation that it will open the door again or help our relationship in anyway)

make myself available when it works for my adult child (I work afterschool/evenings often that was always an issue with this child who wanted me available when it worked for him and often felt ignored when I had to prioritize my work)

Does any of that sound right to you?

I looked up - do people in cults demand money from family members? The answer is yes, yes they do, and people pay because they want to see their son or daughter again.

I don’t mind writing another letter, I have thought of a few things that I would like to apologize for.

I don’t have a pile of money laying around but there is an investment stock I inherited when my Dad passed away that I could “split” and pay them a third of the current value of the stock.

To what end though? I don’t have more than that to give.

I don’t even mind rescheduling my clients if that’s what my son would want me to do in order to meet on a weeknight after he is done his work day - that’s actually not really an issue the same way now that I work online and have a small but dedicated client base, they would all be happy that I was getting to talk to my son.

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When I was first writing about estrangement - I didn’t care if it hurt someone but now I do.

I was angry, it was wrong, I was blamed and scapegoated before being cut off.

I talked about it for a year until my husband said he couldn’t listen to me anymore.

I joined some groups, talked to some people and started writing about my experience as a Mom in cut off culture.

I always favored telling the truth over sparing people’s feelings. Even though I am a very caring person.

Here’s what I’ve been thinking about cutting off Mom.

Let me first tell you about my own difficult relationship with my mother who was a trauma survivor who self medicated. Also known as alcoholic and drug addicted. Which is really a symptom, a reaction, a way of living and coping with trauma.

My mom came when I had my babies and she knew so much about infants. She hadn’t learned from her bio mom, she was given up for adoption for some reason (her birth mother never forgave herself for giving up her middle daughter and we never learned why) and her adopted mom was also alcoholic; possibly from mental illness but I wonder if mental illness isn’t a trauma reaction… She learned about babies from the lady down the street who ran a day care!

She wasn’t as good with my older son at 4 years old. She hit him. I had asked her not to but she did anyway.

I didn’t cut her off or stop talking to her over this.

We talked and I learned so much about her. I learned the “why” she was who she was. She helped me immensely in many ways, always trust yourself, she would say. She was the first person who told me that I was a writer.

Our mom’s literally gave us our body. We grew inside her, literally a part of her. We grew through cellular division and matured into a baby capable of living outside of the womb. This does come at a cost to the mother. Then we keep them alive with our bodies or if adopted, we commit to using our lives to raise that child. Then, there’s the day to day care of a child - taking 16-25 years to fully mature. It’s a huge investment.

Their body was in their mother’s body.

Her egg that became you was in her mother.

You were in your grandmother body when she was pregnant with your mom, or your cells, or the beginning of your cells, her ovum were. Does that really mean nothing?

You have to be pretty deep in the “this body is an illusion” of spirituality to really think that your mother’s body means nothing to you.

Your mother’s body is your home.

Cutting off Mom is a denial of your original home. It is the ultimate in disrespect of the human experience or maybe it is a soul contract; great suffering causes great growth.

If I hadn’t had all those talks with my Mom, where she said stuff like, we just didn’t know any of this stuff about children or psychology. Mine was the first grade one class in elementary school when the no physical punishment rule came into effect. In learning about my Mom’s experiences, I saw her qualities and lots of her qualities I wanted to keep. I knew the good parts of my mom, as well as those behaviours I could live without.

I kept her fierceness, her focus, her ability to do anything she put her mind to.

I let her off with love and left the past behind us. I let go of resentments.

Not in “cut it out” way but in saying, hello anxiety, anger, judgment, let me find ways to be with and sooth myself.

And with Mom? I called her when I could handle her either great day or terrible day and when I couldn’t, I didn’t call and in the end, we had a good relationship. She loved to sing.

Come home goobie, I miss you.

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In my dream, I am in church with my two sons and the father of my younger child. I don’t recognize the church but it seems familiar enough.

My son who has estranged from me is about 10 years old (in real life he is 30). He is showing me what he has built, an intricate structure with something that reaches out like branches at the top. Think of the kind of thing you might make for a grade 3 or 4 project.

There is a problem though and the top part keeps falling over or falling off. My son keeps running to find his father. I try to tell him, the branches are falling off but it is your foundation that isn’t working. He won’t listen to me. He brings his father over, and his Dad hands me a sandwich. I take a bite. It is delicious but also falls apart in my hands; like food all over and only a morsel in my mouth.

I turn to see my older child, he has not been estranged from me in real life and in the dream he is maybe 6 months old. A crying infant who is trying to crawl away from me. I am in pursuit when the minister stops me and tells me, you are doing so well here. “Meet the child where he is at.” Don’t insist that he grow up and be something that he isn’t ready to be.

I wake up and can’t shake the feeling that there is some good information here. I write down the dream and think about it for the last 2 days.

The foundation falling apart is marriage. They weren’t planning on making a family, they met in high school, they didn’t learn independence and just leaned on each other. The first pregnancy meant a foundation needed to be started but it was late in the game when I paid for the damage deposit on their first apartment. She was already showing and I had freaked out at the news of my unemployed, high school drop out, 19 year old becoming someone’s Dad.

Side note:

How many people have paid my damage deposit? Exactly none.

The branches are obviously the family tree.

So maybe not even his foundation, but the foundation which was my relationship with his Dad. He was a gambler, emotionally distant, lied to me and abandoned us many times over the years. The sandwich, which tasted really good at first bite but fell apart in my hands is the perfect symbol for what I had with his Dad. He was a great cook, he did more than nothing that’s for sure but it never lasted long. He would go on a bender and another few months or years would go down the drain. This adult child had an over functioning mother, and a serial abandoning father. There is no foundation. That child could count on me but I was nervous and never able to be his Dad. Nobody can be his Dad except for his Dad.

The foundation part for his Dad and I is similar but different. Both our Mom’s were alcoholic. Mine was in recovery for a long time but couldn’t stay sober. His Mom tried too but as far as I know, always went back to drinking. I learned from going to Al-anon for family and friends of alcoholics, that the Mother’s Guilt for drinking moms is horrendous. It is so painful, they often are not able to stay sober. His Dad was a violent alcoholic. My Dad was the perfect enabler, sometimes going out on tour as a musician and a wonderful father. He also left the family home when I was 11. My Mom pushed him out. Doesn’t matter why, the result is we both came from unstable foundations, with Dad’s who abandoned us and Mom’s who drank to cope with needing to over function to survive.

I felt it was a good sign we were in church, having a spiritual experience and that the minister said I had it right.

How do you meet him where he is at when where he is at is gone silent, without desire to move into repair and saying it’s been good for him to not have his mom?

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Every estranged mother will feel this. The dark night of the soul. The death of who you once were.

The void before you step into what you have become after estrangement from your own child and perhaps grandchildren.

The role of parent shapes your identity more than any other life altering event we experience as humans.

Today, I was in that void, a part of my heart died when my child stopped speaking to me and there I was, in the nothing that leaves behind.

I did the things, stuff that needed to be done, with body pain, emotional pain, a few tears and some moments of clarity.

I attended Joshua Coleman’s Q&A today and heard loud and clear - your next steps, after writing a letter of amends and checking in once to see if they had read it… nothing. Live your life, remember who you were before you had children, join a club, volunteer and enjoy this life you have to live.

I “had” to read some of another authors book today, to be their podcast guest and I put it off for as long as I could, but opened it from this broken place that earlier today had said, “His mother has died” out loud.

This book is all about the business of being a woman in business.

I see after just a few paragraphs, I have stumbled onto exactly what I need to hear today!

Sentiments about the death of your own self, how this is a passage that feels like loss but this death clears the way to the new you.

Why not apply this to estrangement?

This isn’t a dark night of conscious choice, like when deciding to change career paths, but hey, losing your identity… doesn’t that sound perfect for the Mom or Dad who has been fired?

This is an initiation of kinds, to your next self, to the part of life that you didn’t consent to but is here non-the-less.

Pushing doesn’t work in the cocoon that is the void when you have lost your identity.

The part of me that’s dead already knows it’s time to move on.

This is not punishment, instead see this as preparation and reconnection to your personal power.

Identity itself is a filter, not a reality, it’s what you have believed about and been told about yourself that creates this story of “the self”.

Seeing yourself changing is essential to your growth. Identity growth needs nervous system recalibration. In other words, you need to feel that you are safe and getting there means doing one small thing daily. So that you can experience the safety again and again.

This is the “Why?” of stop reaching out and go do your hobby. Remember the things that you loved, making mixed tapes, listening to music, spending time with friends, picnics with your lover, riding horses, board games, reading, soap making, singing, dancing, running, driving, feeding the birds… things you gave up to feed children, wipe bums, get to school and have dinner ready.

Not for your little life that’s left but for the life you get to live while you are still breathing - right now. Food still tastes good, the river is still flowing, your friends love the sound of your voice and that dog isn’t going to walk themselves.

Choosing to keep on reaching out, just to keep getting rejected will result in nervous system shut down and stress responses - we have had enough of that!

Living in the stress response doesn’t serve us or them.

We are the parents, who still make good eggs and would love to play with the special little people we lost when our children thought better of us.

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